Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
“Well, Mr. Brand,” she cried, “I sympathize with you more than I can
express. We all know your warlike spirit and that you would be in the
forefront of the hottest battle if you could, but Colonel Tremaine has
just been telling us that when the war breaks out only the services of
men under forty-five years will be required. Of course, however, you
can volunteer, and with your splendid physique, you are certain to be
accepted.”
Mr. Brand winced. He was oratorically patriotic and took the ground
that when the conflict came, every able-bodied man should shoulder his
musket and go to the front, that is to say, except himself. Moreover,
his age, which was well beyond the fifty mark, was a tender point
with him, and it was exactly like Mrs. Charteris, who was a notorious
meddler, to be raking up these unpleasant subjects and laughing
irreverently.
“My calling, my dear Mrs. Charteris,” began Mr. Brand lamely. “My
cloth----”
“Oh, chaplains will be needed in our armies; you don’t suppose that the
Southern soldiers will be a set of heathens, do you? And you can have a
chance to march----”
“And sleep in the mud and catch rheumatism and starve----”
“And be a target for Yankee bullets like the rest of us,” added Richard
Tremaine maliciously, who was a secret partisan of Mrs. Charteris.
The conversation then grew general all about the coming war. The news
of South Carolina’s secession was still fresh and vivid, and it was
realized that the parting of the ways had come. The ladies professed
their willingness to wear their old hats and bonnets indefinitely, to
scrape up all the linen sheets for lint and to outdo the women of the
French Revolution in patriotism. The gentlemen encouraged the ladies
by their laughter and applause except Neville Tremaine, but as he was
usually a reticent man, no one was surprised at his silence. Mrs.
Tremaine, as the mother of two gallant sons to give the Cause, assumed
unconsciously the arrogance of proud motherhood and exchanged strange
glances with Mrs. Charteris, who with one seventeen-year-old boy knew
herself to be envious of the other woman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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